And so we say farewell to the 2010 World Cup. I hope you all had as much fun as I did with it this year, and maybe I'll see you again in 2014?

Enjoy.

The final whistle blew and Germany and Prussia cheered. At the very least, they could go home on a win.

"Germany!" an Italy shaped blob came out of nowhere to tackle him to the ground, "Congratulations Germany! You were amazing!"

"Th-thanks Italy," he muttered and blushed while Prussia laughed, "Please get off me." Instead of doing that, Italy opted to bury his face into Germany's chest.

"I-Italy? Are you crying?"

"S-sorry, it's just…I'm so happy you won!"

"It's only third place…"

"But you still did amazing, ve! Much better than me…"

"Italy…" He sat up to wipe some of the tears off of the other nation's cheeks.

"But," the Italian perked up and placed his hands on Germany's shoulders, "I'm going to train harder! Prepare yourself when we play at Brazil's house, Germany, because I'm going all the way again, ve!"

Germany smiled. He liked Italy best when he was happy like this.

"I'm not going down that easily."

Prussia stood a few feet away, a genuine smile on his face as he watched his brother and Italy.

"Prussia!" was all the warning he got before a Spanish mass tackle hugged him from behind, "Congrats on your win!"

"Spain let the nation breathe, si'l vous plait."

"Did you guys watch me?" Prussia asked excitedly, "Did you see how awesome I am?"

"Oui," France answered, "We did. You did a very nice job."

"You played great!" Spain smiled, "How did I manage to beat you again?"

"Luck," he responded before putting his hands on Spain's shoulders and taking a serious tone, "Spain, you better win tomorrow. Seriously, don't make my octopus wrong!" France chuckled from somewhere behind him.

"Don't sweat it guys," he grinned, "With you and Romano behind me, how can I possibly lose?"

"Kesese, with my awesome support, you can't lose!" He smirked as he threw his hands around his friends shoulders and sauntered out of the stadium, "C'mon let's go out! Drinks are on France!"

It was over. Spain had won. He had won. For the first time ever, he was the World Champion. Spain laughed gleefully at that as he collapsed onto the ground, wincing slightly when he upset the broken ribs Netherlands gave him in the first half.

"Hey," Spain opened his eyes to see orange hovering above him, "…Good game," Netherlands extended a hand to help Spain up, which he eagerly took. As soon as he was on his feet, Spain dragged the other nation into a hug.

"Si! You were fantastic as well! Boss is very proud of you."

"You're not my boss anymore…I thought I made that clear," he didn't return the hug, but he didn't exactly back away.

"Si, you did. And the orange looks good on you, by the way."

Netherlands grumbled something that may have been his thanks before finally breaking away from the hug. A shout from over his shoulder caused both of them to turn to see Belgium, dressed in orange, approaching them.

"Congrats on the win Spain!" she said cheerily, "You earned it."

"Thank you very much!"

"C'mon bro," she grabbed Netherlands's hand and led him away, "let's go get drinks. My treat."

Spain waved to them until the disappeared off the field. Just as he was about to turn around, two blurs came from nowhere and tackled him to the ground again, upsetting his ribs again.

"Ow! France, Prussia," he called out, "Netherlands really did a number on me…"

"And yet you still won!" Spain looked up to see Prussia smirking down at him, "Congrats dude! I think you owe me and my octopus a little something for the victory though."

"I'm pretty sure you did absolutely nothing," France chuckled as he rolled off his friend to lie next to him, "But the octopus should get a reward of some kind."

"Pshaw, I taught Paul everything he knows," Prussia leaned back and smirked down at Spain, who just smiled back up at him.

"Thanks Prussia, I owe you one. Shall we go get drinks then?"

"Of course! France is paying!"

"Why am I always the one who pays?" Prussia and Spain just looked at him like he was crazy. "…Just wait until 2014."

"France," Prussia put a hand on his friend's shoulder, "if you can get your act together in four years, I can honestly say I'll be looking forward to it."

The trio shared a laugh and stood up, leaving the stadium. Just as they passed through the gates, Spain spotted someone in the corner that made him tell his friends he'd catch them later. They agreed, and he wasted no time running over to hug Romano as Prussia and France left.

"Romano! Did you watch Boss play? Did you see me win?"

"Yes, I saw you," he leaned his head on Spain's shoulder, "Congratulations bastard. You really did earn it this year."

"You're so cute when you're honest, Romano," the Italian blushed and turned his head away, but not before Spain snuck a kiss in on his forehead. "So, how does it feel to know you'll be sleeping with the World Champion tonight?"

Romano shot him an adorable glare before his face softened into a smirk, "I don't know…How does it feel to have a four time champion in your bed every night?"

"So it feels that amazing, huh?" Spain grinned and Romano rolled his eyes and kissed his cheek.

If he knew being the World Champion would be this wonderful, he would have done it a long time ago. Well, there's always next time…